"No, ma'am! More likely I'll wear them out. Now, for the wigwam, kiddies. Have you a couple of Navajo blankets?"

"Yes, we have! and a Bulgarian one, or whatever you call it, to piece out," cried Midget, as she ran to get them.

"Just the thing!" declared Cousin Jack. "Put them aside, we won't use them till the day of the show. 'Cause why? 'Cause it _might_ rain,--but, of course it won't. Now, for feathers,--we want lots of feathers."

"Old hat feathers?" asked Midget.

"Ostrich plumes? Nay, nay, me child. Good stiff quill feathers,--turkey feathers preferred. Well, never mind those,--I'll fish some up from somewhere. Now, blankets for the braves and fringed gowns for the squaws. I'll show you how, Mehitabel, and you and your respected mother can do the sewing act."

Well, Cousin Jack planned just about everything, and he and the children turned the house upside down in their quest for materials. But Mrs.

Maynard didn't mind. She was used to it, for the Maynard children would always rather "celebrate" than play any ordinary game.

CHAPTER XX

A CELEBRATION

The first of August was a perfect day for their celebration.

They had concluded to hold a Sand Court session first, for the simple reason that so much matter for _The Jolly Sandboy_ had arrived from Kitty that King said his paper was full, and he thought it would be nice to help along the celebration.

Cousin Jack declined an invitation to be present at the reading, saying that the Pocahontas part was all he could stand, so the Court convened without him. Ruth was Queen for the day. This was for no particular reason, except that Marjorie thought it would be a pleasure to the little new member, so she insisted on Ruth's wearing the crown.

Very dainty and sweet the little Queen looked, with her long flaxen curls hanging down from the extra gorgeous gilt-paper crown, that Marjorie had made specially for this occasion.

As the session began, a meek little figure appeared at the Court entrance, and there was Hester!

"Now, you Hester!" began Tom Craig, but Hester said:

"Oh, please let me come! I _will_ be good. I won't say a single cross word, or boss, or anything."

"All right, Hester," said Midget, kindly, "come on in. If the Queen says you may we'll all say so. Do you, O Queen?"

Ruth looked doubtful for a minute, for she was a little afraid of Hester's uncertain temper; but, seeing Marjorie's pleading look, she consented.

"All right," she said; "if Hester won't throw water on me."

"No, I won't!" declared Hester, earnestly.

"Well," said King, "just as long as Hester behaves herself she may stay.

If she carries on like fury, she's got to go home."

Hester sat down and folded her hands in her lap, looking so excessively meek that they all had to laugh at her.

"Now," said the Queen, "we're gathered here together, my loyal subjects, to listen to,--to, what do you call it?"

"_The Jolly Sandboy_," prompted King.

"_The Jolly Sandbag_," said the Queen, misunderstanding.

But she was soon put right, and King proceeded to read his paper.

"It's 'most all done by Uncle Steve and Kitty," he said, "and it's so nice, I thought you'd all like to hear it."

"We would," they said, and so King began.

"Uncle Steve's part is all about animals," he said. "It's a sort of Natural History, I guess. First is a poem about the Camel.

"The camel is a curious beast; He roams about all through the East.

He swiftly scours the desert plain, And then he scours it back again.

"The camel's legs are very slim, And he lets people ride on him.

Across the sandy waste he flies, And kicks the waste in people's eyes.

"He kneels for people to get on, Then pulls his legs up, one by one; But here's what troubles them the worst-- To know which leg he'll pull up first.

"Sometimes, when he is feeling gay, The camel likes to run away; And, as he's just indulged that whim, I can't write any more of him."

"I think that's lovely," said the Queen, enthusiastically. "Your uncle is a real poet, isn't he?"

"Our family all can write poetry," said Marjorie, seriously. "Father and Mother both write beautiful verses."

"Now, here's the next one," went on King. "This is about all sorts of different animals,--and it's funny, too:

"The whale is smooth, and black as jet His disposition sweet; He neatly combs his hair, and yet He will not wipe his feet.

"The wombat's clever and polite, And kind as he can be; And yet he doesn't bow quite right When he goes out to tea.

"The snake is bright and understands Whatever he is taught; And yet he never will shake hands As cordial people ought.

"'Most everybody loves the newt; But I've heard people tell, That though he's handy with a flute He can't sew very well.

"So animals, as you may see, Some grave defects display; They're not like human beings. We Are perfect every way."

"Oh, that's a fine one!" cried Hester. "Mayn't I copy that, and have it to keep?"

"Of course," said King. "I'll make you a copy on the typewriter. Now, here's a silly one. I mean nonsensical, you know. But I like it:

"THE FUNNY FLAPDOODLE

"There was a Flapdoodle of France, Who loved to cut capers and dance; He had one red shoe And the other was blue, And how he could shuffle and prance!

"One day he was kicking so high That a breeze blew him up in the sky; The breeze was so strong It blew him along Till the Flapdoodle just seemed to fly.

"He flew 'way up into the stars, And, somehow, he landed on Mars.